Suzette's Blue
by Suzette's Blue
Summary: Suzette's Blue. Literally. Drabble with "slight" OoC-ness on the part of Itachi and Kisame. Written by Suzette's Nee Chan. Now a trio of Oneshots about Suzette and her friends.
1. Suzette's Blue

**A/N** just so you know … I am not Suzette so I didn't actually title a fic after myself … I am the Nee Chan. Oh and Suzette loves reviews (even if they aren't actually for her, she'll claim them anyway) so you don't need to worry about finding "Nee Chan" around … I don't have an account which is why I'm using Suzette's. And I talk to much, so onto the real reason you're here (if you're still here)

**~ Suzette's Blue ~**

Suzette was your average Oompa Loompa.

Two feet high, with green hair and orange skin. Well, at least, she was until the chewing-gum-dinner incident.

Suzette was one of the Oompa Loompas that Willy Wonka turned into a blueberry, she was not, however, one of the ones that exploded.

Suzette supposed she was lucky. She could have died, but instead was here, doing what she loved best, making all kinds of sweets and confectionaries. She had loving and accepting friends who didn't care about the … um … _unfortunate side affects_ that was the proof of her run in with the chewing gum.

But she was now Blue (in more ways than one). And no matter how kind and non-judgmental her friends were, she felt ashamed of her Blue-ness in face of their Orange-ness. After all, blue and orange clash horribly.

So, she asked Willy Wonka to let her leave his chocolate factory and make her own way in the big wide world. Which he did, after making her promise not to share his candy-making secrets, or to reproduce his candies commercially.

And that's how Suzette ended up working at a bakery making cakes, muffins, éclairs, brownies, cookies and all other types of sweet pastries.

It always made her smile to see and hear people compliment what she had made. She had never experienced that at the factory, which is why it made her so happy, even if they never knew she had made them or even saw her. After all, they were just giants and the first time one of the customers had seen her, the lady screamed 'leprechaun' and ran around the store bumping into people, then everyone else saw her as well and practically stampeded out the door yelling a variety of 'freak', 'monster' and 'leprechaun', which Suzette found very rude. Leprechauns were green, and while she was not the typical orange of an Oompa Loompa, she wasn't green either, she was blue.

One day as Suzette was cleaning the store, preparing for opening time, two men in long black cloaks with pretty red clouds on them came in.

The shorter one with long, dark hair and strange lines on his face, went straight to where Suzette's creations were displayed and practically started drooling at all of the cakes set up, ready for the start of the day.

"Excuse me sirs, but we're n- … ahh! Umm … I mean, can I help you?"

Suzette was surprised by the store owner's behaviour regarding the strangers, but was even more surprised by the second man.

He was around seven feet tall, had something large and wrapped with bandages on his back, _gills_ and … he was blue. Not the ugly purply-blueberry colour Suzette had turned after the chewing-gum-dinner incident, but that beautiful sky blue you get on those lovely summer days, just after the rain when all the clouds have cleared away.

But despite how beautiful the second man was and how eager the first man seemed and how respectful the store owner was being, they had still come in before opening hours and thus should be asked to leave.

"Sorry mister, but we don't open for another half hour, do you mind coming back later?"

The two men looked down at her, shock only registering on the taller's face. The other just looked annoyed.

"But my favourite partisserie has closed down and I need my morning fudge cake and strawberry muffin."

"We have a delivery system for early mornings, if that would be more convenient. Provided your place of residence is not too far away, we can deliver your order to your doorstep by 7 am."

Suzette was feeling very proud of herself for being so professional when the blue man ruined the atmosphere by saying, "you're blue."

"Yes, she is, Kisame, but if you didn't notice, so are you. Now," he addressed Suzette again, "how soon can we get put on this delivery roster and do you mind making an exception for today regarding opening hours since we're in a bit of a rush."

"You place and pay for your order the day before you want it during opening hours, aka between 9 am and 7 pm, and leave your name and address. Your order will be delivered before 8 am the next morning, however if there's a specific time you want it delivered you should specify it while placing your order. It is also possible to order by phone, but that has a payment on delivery system. And we'll make an exception this once because, a) you're in a rush, b) you didn't know about the delivery system, c) your regular place has just closed and d) you look like you _REALLY_ want to eat that cake."

The dark haired man nodded to Suzette and said, "thank you very much," before turning to the store owner and excitedly giving his order.

Suzette walked over to the fishman the other had called 'Kisame' and asked something that had been on her mind for a while.

"Has Mr. Wonka started making chewing gum with skyberries?"

"WHAT?!!"

"Well, I'm blueberry coloured because I was one of the tests for Mr. Wonka's chewing-gum-dinner with blueberry pie. But you're not blueberry blue, you're sky blue, so I was wondering if that was a result of trying one of Mr. Wonka's chewing-gum-dinner's but with skyberry pie."

"Okay kid, 1) there's no such thing as a skyberry, 2) I don't eat chewing gum, 3) I've never met a 'Mr. Wonka' and 4) I was born blue."

"? _did you just say Mr. Wonka?_ OH MY GOD, I _LOVE_ WONKA CHOCOLATES!! They're my _favourites_!"

"Hold on, so, you mean the same Wonka that makes all those candies that Itachi eats day and night but never rots his teeth with?"

"Probably, Mr Wonka adds a special ingredient to all his candies so they don't rot teeth or make kids fat, but weren't you two in a rush?"

They quickly turned to leave, but not before Suzette said, "thank you for coming, have a nice day and see you again next time."

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Naruto, the Akatsuki, Willy Wonka or Suzette and Suzette is not blue or an Oompa Loompa or a leprechaun.

**A/**N Now this fic may or may not be a oneshot … if there's enough interest I will turn it into a series of oneshots, although if you REALLY want me to continue Suzette's story, me being the talented person I am, could probably do that too, (Suzette said I should continue this storyline, so feedback would be appreciated). Thank you for reading, have a nice day and see you again next time.


	2. Larbi's Rose

**A/N **And now for the second oneshot of "the Table Meets the Akatsuki". Larbi is the founder of our group, so fondly refered to as "the Table" and is the "sun" in our "Solar System".

**Disclaimer:** I own my head space. Yeah, that's about it. I don't own Naruto, I don't own Larbi, and I don't own an ff account. Kinda sad but that's me! 

**~ Larbi's Rose ~**

Larbi was just like every other 8 year old girl. She ate cookies, she teased her little brother, she cut her Barbie doll's hair, she loved hugs and flowers, and she was 6 ft tall.

OK, so not average in every respect.

Larbi was built in a similar fashion to that of a bear. A bear with a passion for roses. Pink roses, red roses, yellow roses, white roses, orange roses. She even grew blue and purples ones.

Unfortunately, Larbi had some habits that most others found strange and frightning. Habits like glomping people so fiercely they were in danger of suffocation, broken bones or just generally getting crushed. Or heading-butting people as a sign of affection. Or giving them odd nicknames that they absolutely hated.

Despite all of this, Larbi had some loyal friends, all of whom, were just as weird and crazy as Larbi in their own unique ways (this, however is the story of Larbi, you can read more about some of her friends in the other chapters of this fic).

One aspect of Larbi's craziness, could be found in the 'special roses' she breed herself.

One such rose was entered into a contest at the 'Fantastical Floral Festival', the local plant festival held once a month, so that all different seasonal plants can be show cased as well.

The contest was one of several novelty contests, designed for people who, like Larbi, cultivated their own species of plant.

Larbi entered her special potted rose (because all the plants for these competitons had to be potted) into the devision she thought it was most suited for, then wandered away to watch the judges decide which plant 'had the biggest nose', but not before giving her rose strict instructions to 'behave yourself'.

After about 10 minutes, the judges got to the table where Larbi had left her rose, along with the other candidates for that contest.

"We will now judge the 'most vicious plant'. We have here five compet- oh dear."

Oh dear indeed.

Well, there HAD been five competitors.

Now there were only three.

Well, okay, two and a half.

Larbi's rose was there, fighting with a venus flytap, that had been entered by someone named 'Zetsu', over a half eaten cactus that had been unfortunate enough to have been placed between them. It had been entered under the name 'Wile E. Coyote'. (Yes, as in the Warner Brothers one that chases after road runner. Meep meep.)

On either end (aka on the other sides of the rose and venus flytrap) were bits of broken pots and a handful of soil. The label in front of what used to be the contestant next to Larbi's rose, read, 'Ichi Rash's Poison Ivy'; and the one next to Zetsu's venus flytrap was labelled, 'Suf, O. Kate's Strangular Vine'.

Upon seeing this, Larbi immediately rushed forward to rescue the poor cactus, which was silently weeping anime style tears and holding up a sign saying 'HELP!'.

Larbi quickly pulled her rose off the half eaten thing and slapped the head of the venus flytrap, scolding them both for treating fellow competitors in the same contest so poorly, because Larbi was a very fair person for an 8 year old.

She was also very compassionate, so after scolding the two (who at least had the decency to look _alittle_ ashamed of themselves), she hugged Wile E. Coyote's cactus, which promptly stuck thorns in her left check, neck and shoulder.

"Now is that any way to thank someone who just saved your life?"

A man who looked half venus flytrap and was even taller than Larbi (even if you didn't count the extra foot his plant jaws gave him), had come up behind her and now took the cactus from her to give it a good telling off while she pulled all the prickles out. She was particularly good at this concidering her hobby of breeding violently aggressive roses.

She listened as the venus flytrap man talked to the cactus.

"**I thank you my prickly little friend. I was wondering what to have for lunch, but now I know. I'll have a rude, ungrateful, stunted, half-eaten, potted prick of a desert-dwelling, parasitic fungus.**"

Everyone in the room gasped (being plant lovers, incorrectly classifying a plant, especially on purpose, was a horrifying thought in itself. But to call a cactus a _parasite_, well, that was just cruel and malicious), and Larbi told him, "I appreciate the gesture, but that was a bit far," and Wile E. Coyote came forward to give venus flytrap man a piece of his mind (no, not literally, unfortunately).

"I resent you calling my cactus a stunted fungus, and the girl should know better than to go around hugging cacti."

"Well, you, my friend, should have taught your cactus some manners. **Yeah even if our venus flytrap DID eat the other plants entered and make your cactus cry, at least they stopped when the kid jumped in**."

"KID?!!"

"She'd have to be six feet tall for crying out loud!"

"True. We weren't six feet tall 'til we were, what, 15? **13.** Oh that's right, with Aunt Milred's grape vines. **Andthe mangroves by the lake.** But it's amazing that those two listened to you, miss. You must be very talented."

"Thank you. Actually, I'm Larbi and this is my rose, so of course I'd be able to stop it. It was your venus flytrap I was more worried about, but it's been well trained."

"Ah, that's _your_ rose? Well done. How old are you by the way Larbi?"

"I'm 8 years old. And your name's Zetsu right? It was on the card."

From there Larbi and Zetsu began to meet regularly and visit each other's gardens. Each sharing hints and secrets and funny little stories with the other, resulting in several plant species that ended up being banned by most of the world's gorverning powers.

**A/N** ok so how was it? Please review and tell me what you thought. Oh yeah, and about the names used on the placards, I know they're lame ok? But I couldn't resist putting them in anyway and I had fun coming up with them to .. heh heh.


	3. Minuette

**A/N** Okay, if you're wondering why the title of this chapter doesn't have a colour on the end, it's because the chapter titles are from the names Larbi gave us (from the previous chapter ... although I think I'm the only one who really HATES the name they were given). Suzie Blues is my sister, Larbi is what we call Larbi and someone decided that her colour would be Rose (not quite sure who that was actually, might have been a joint effort), and now Minuette.

**Disclaimer:** No I don't own it, but neither do you! I don't own any skills at playing a musical instrument either though, which Minuette does and you might possibly. 

**~ Minuette ~**

Minuette was a quiet, sensible kind of girl. She was smart, practical and, unlike some of her other friends, was not of a terribly strange size, being only slightly smaller than the average sixteen year old girl.

And, like most sixteen year old girls, Minuette had a job. Unlike most sixteen year old girls, she didn't work in a fast food joint or do baby-sitting or anything like that. No, she worked with a theatre that showed musical puppet shows on weekends.

Despite what you may think, Minuette was not a puppeteer (or whatever the word for it is), oh no.

Minuette played the piano for every show they did. You see, Minuette was very gifted. She could play just about any instrument you could care to name. Her favourite was the guitar, however the shows required piano. Which, just so happened to be her second favourite.

They had a different show on every weekend and each was shown five times. Friday night, Saturday morning, Saturday evening, Sunday morning and Sunday evening.

After nearly a month of these shows, Minuette knew basically what to expect from each of the five different sessions.

Friday night was the polite audience. People who went to the theatre to wind down after a long, gruelling week.

Saturday morning was the best and most responsive audience, being made up of mostly children and their carers.

Saturday evening was generally the more romantic audience. Girls and boys who dragged their dates to the theatre (_why_ they wanted to watch puppets performing the classics as part of their dates, Minuette could only guess) after having a romantic dinner for two or whatever it was.

Sunday morning was the worst and most rude audience, made up of people a few years older than her. That is, old enough to be independent but not old enough to be mature and responsible.

Then there's Sunday evening. The 'pot-luck' audience. These were a mish-mash of all the other types. Business men, stressing about work on Monday, young families, dates, and rude youths who, more often than not, stumbled in completely drunk. Basically the people who missed the other shows for whatever reason.

Whenever she wasn't playing, Minuette liked to look at the audience and soon began to recognize some of the regulars.

Every second week a family of six would come to the Saturday morning show, a grandmother, father, mother, and three kids, two girls and a boy.

Every Sunday evening, the same drunk 23-year-old man came in 10-15 minutes after the show started.

Every Friday night had three regulars. A plump, friendly lady with her intimidating husband, and a small, timid, balding man who came on his own.

In the first week of every month a woman would come to see the Saturday evening show, each time bringing a different man with her and another woman did the exact same thing in the last week of the month.

And then there was the red-haired man who came to every Sunday morning show.

There were of course others that came more than once, but they seemed to come more randomly, they didn't follow any pattern that Minuette could see.

One Sunday morning the abuse was worse than usual and got to a state about halfway through, that was so rowdy, it was almost impossible to hear what those on stage were saying until ...

"WILL EVERYBODY SHUT THE ______ UP!?! I'M TRYING TO ______ WATCH THE ______ SHOW!!"

It was the red-haired man, who had stood up and was now glaring at the rest of the audience.

There was silence. Even the puppeteers had stopped and Minuette had a brainwave.

Softly she began playing, so softly that hardly anyone would be able to hear the intimidating, menacing music that she improvised.

"Every week I come here, and every ______ week, ______ ______ like you ______ ruin it. ______. I've had enough! This is the last ______ time."

Minuette slowly but steadily increased the volume of her playing, while all's attention was on the red-haired man, providing backing music for his rant.

"______ ______ like you should not be allowed to go to theatres. ______. Every ______ one of you should be ______ shot."

Now Minuette was playing loud enough for everyone to hear, even though she was pretty sure only the red-haired man was consciously aware of it.

"Any of you ______ ______ unwilling to _quietly_ watch the rest of the play had better get off your ______ ______ and leave."

No one moved.

Minuette had stopped playing when he had finished talking so there was utter silence in the room.

After waiting a few more seconds Minuette started the last song again and after a few seconds of delay, the play resumed and the red-haired man sat down to enjoy the rest of the play.

Not a peep from the rest of the audience until the play was finished, when they burst into wild applause, likely less out of appreciation for the play than fear of the red-haired man.

Speaking of whom …

"Hello, thank you for the mood music back there."

"No problem. That is my job after all. I'm Minuette."

"Sas-"

"Yo! Sasori! Stirring speech. Never thought you'd resort to 'my' type of language."

"Unfortunately the others in this audience seem to only be capable of speaking 'Hidan'."

Minuette saw two men approaching, both taller than she and Sasori, who was after all only a few inches taller than her.

The one that had spoken earlier, Hidan was it, had white slicked back hair and an open shirt. Minuette couldn't see much of the other; he had a piece of cloth over his head and covering the lower half of his face. He was the taller of the two and the next one to speak.

"I've seen you get angry before Sasori, but it's never quite had such a menacing aura. It was well worth the entrance fee just to see that, let alone the play, which was of surprisingly good quality. We should come here more oft-"

"Oh ______ no! The only reason I didn't drag your ______ ______ to ______ church today, Kakuzu, was 'cause ______ Dei's sick, so he couldn't ______ go, we didn't ______ know where ______ Sasori was going, and you ______ refused to pay for anything more than entry for a ______ group!"

"Uh, well, we also have shows on Saturday and Sunday evenings and if you pre-book as a group of five or more you get a 10% discount."

"There you go Hidan, we'll take Tobi and Zetsu to the theatre Saturday and Deidara to church Sunday."

"OKAY!! We got us a plan!"

They hi-fived and started walking away excitedly, discussing someone called 'Jashin' who Hidan had failed to meet that morning.

"Well, I suppose I don't mind seeing each show twice."

Minuette was about to ask what he meant by that, but Sasori had already begun walking after his friends so instead she called after him, "see you next week!"

And so she did. On both Saturday evening and Sunday morning. And the week after. And the week after that. And so it goes on.

Oh and Sunday mornings became noticeably less rowdy after that. Not to mention that quite a few dates were rendered unforgettable by Sasori and his friends.

**A/N** and now is your cue to cry because there aren't going to be any more. With Minuette there were two possible scenarios that could've written about.

- Sasori being sent on a mission to kidnap her after infilterating the theatre, or

- Sasori having a secret passion for Musical puppet shows and Minuette works there, which is how they meet.

Both Suzette and Mei-chan chose the latter, which I liked the sound of better too.

Please review and tell me why it's aweful, coz Suzette and Mei-chan only ever say "it sucks", they never tell me what to fix 

Thank you for reading!! 

Oh and about the blank spaces, I'm sure you can fill in the gaps yourself. I am trying to keep this rated K afterall, so if there are any kids reading this … fill the gaps with fudge and fiddlesticks children!! =D


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